


Two (is a lonely number, too)

by orphan_account



Category: Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Amazing Spider-Man (2012), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Angst, Child Death, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Superfamily
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-05
Updated: 2012-11-05
Packaged: 2017-11-18 00:44:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/555011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony wakes up in the hospital, and Steve is waiting for him. Something’s not right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two (is a lonely number, too)

The first time he woke he was alone, and it was dark. He went back to sleep. 

 

The second time he wasn’t even sure that he was awake. He could hear someone moving somewhere far away, like whispers at the end of a tunnel. Tony couldn’t tell whether he was imagining it or not, the sound was so distant. He didn’t have the energy to open his eyes to check, he wanted to call out to them, just to see if they were there, but he couldn’t. He felt as though he was buried, a heavy sort of exhaustion settled over him like a blanket. 

There was something niggling at the back of his mind, and he knew that he was forgetting something. It was important; he needed to remember more than he needed to move or speak. He couldn’t. 

He could feel a weight on his hand, calm and reassuring and nice, and he tried to focus on that instead. Everything faded out again.

 

Steve was crying. The sound was enough to pull Tony a little further toward consciousness, forcing though the exhaustion and the tightness in his chest. He wanted to reach out, but his arm was so heavy he couldn’t lift it. He wished he had the armor—the armor would be able to lift his arm, Iron Man could help Steve. 

He was floating on the edge of unconsciousness, and Tony wanted so badly to tell Steve that he was okay, that everything would be all right. He didn’t know why Steve was crying; it didn’t matter. 

He tried. He couldn’t remember if he’d actually said the words or not as he slipped back into unconsciousness. 

 

He hurt. 

Tony moaning softly, curling his fingers weakly around the sheets. He’d have been pleased with himself for getting his arms to respond this time, even a little, if he didn’t ache so damn much. Intellectually, a part of him knew that was a good thing, but that didn’t make it any more pleasant. 

“Tony, baby shh, you’re okay.” 

Steve. Steve was crying—but no, he wasn’t crying now. Had he dreamt that? His voice sounded off somehow, and that just made Tony all the more determined to open his eyes, just to prove that he could. 

The lights were too bright, and he blinked the spots from his vision. Steve was leaning over him, half out of his chair. He had a mottled bruise on his cheek, light and already healing, and a butterfly bandage on his eyebrow was all that was left of what had been a cut before the serum kicked in.

Steve’s eyes were red. The sight of it made Tony’s stomach twist. 

Tony lifted his hand to touch Steve’s cheek, but he could only get it a few inches off the bed. Steve caught it gently and leaned down to brush a light kiss over his knuckles. His eyes were shining, he looked so relieved. But as his eyes flickered over Tony’s features another unintelligible expression crossed his face, just briefly enough that Tony barely caught it. 

What happened to your face, Tony tried to ask, but it came out as a raspy “Wh—” before he started coughing. The coughs racked his whole body, and made his chest scream in protest as he tried to catch his breath. Steve held his hand a little tighter, mumbling reassurances until the fit passed. It left a dull ache in his chest, and Steve continued to rub soothing circles along the back of Tony’s hand.

Steve looked at him patiently, eyes searching. 

“There was an accident, Tony, do you remember?” Steve asked, and he paused for a moment when Tony shook his head, “You were in a pretty bad way, and I—” Steve stopped himself, thinking better of what he was going to say next, “…Tony I’m sorry, you should go back to sleep. We can talk more when you wake up.”

Tony started to nod. Steve looked relieved that he was going to let the issue drop, but the niggling feeling was creeping back. What was it…an accident…he couldn’t remember. He couldn’t— 

Eyes widening, Tony drew in a sharp breath, ignoring the ache in his chest over the rising panic. 

“W’s Pete?” Tony forced the words out, cleared his throat, tried again , “Peter. Where—” Steve looked as though he’d anticipated the question, he was already shaking his head. The hand in his hair would have been comforting if not for the words accompanying them. 

“Shh, Tony, baby, I’m so sorry,” Steve stopped him from sitting up with his other hand flat across his chest, not pressing, but staying him none the less, “You need to calm down. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Please.” His hand tightened on Steve’s. No no no no please, “Where is he, Steve?” Tony insisted, and his voice broke half way through the question. He didn’t care. Tony knew the answer already; he didn’t even want to hear it, but he knew he needed to hear it from Steve. 

“The doctors… did everything they could,” Steve said, his voice wavering so slightly that he almost didn’t catch it, “He’s gone, Tony.” Tony wasn’t sure whether it was the hand rubbing soothing circles over his temple of Steve’s obvious attempt to stay strong for Tony’s sake, but Tony just choked on whatever he was going to say next, feeling hot tears rolling down his cheeks. He cried, and it hurt, ached deep in his chest, and the pain was more than just in his ribs. He didn’t know for how long, or when he finally stopped, just felt all the tears and the pain and the gentle whispers of reassurances that they both knew fell flat.


End file.
